


Of Swanks and Rag-a-Muffins

by Twinkling_Noodle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Friendship, Gen, Gun fights, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Background Relationships, Mobster AU, Team Building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinkling_Noodle/pseuds/Twinkling_Noodle
Summary: Pidge is looking for her family, who went missing a year ago. Lance wants to make it big in the city. Keith's trying to unravel the mystery of his past. Shiro wants justice. Hunk just wants to make an honest living.Together, with the help of a former heiress trying desperately to keep her parent's legacy alive, they just might be able to wrangle the city out of the hands of the biggest gang in the city.(or I needed some 20's Voltron gang in my life)





	Of Swanks and Rag-a-Muffins

When Katie Holt was little, just a few inches too short to reach the cookie jar her mother had hidden, her father would tell her, “The city is a magical, mysterious place Katie. It can turn your dreams to ashes or…” he would smile and crouch down to her level, taking this pause to soothe his suddenly fearful child. “Or it can make them come true in the wildest way possible. You just have to ask her for her secrets, and she’ll tell you what you need to know.” Then he’d wink and ruffle her hair, leaving her to ponder with wonder at the “magic” of the city.

12 years later and Samuel Holt’s words still played through his daughter’s mind as she silently crept out her bedroom window and onto the fire escape.

She carefully closed the window, making sure it wouldn’t lock, and descended to the dimly lit streets below. ‘Tonight,’ she thought as she hastily navigated her way through the streets, “I will finally learn your secrets.”

* * *

 

Hunk Garrett was a simple man. He never rushed into conflicts, always went over the possible consequences of any action, and believed that the best  things in life were food, family and science. So as his roommate attempted to pull him from his bed, disrupting his dreams of lobster and car engines, he couldn’t help but  wonder what the hell he’d done in his past life to deserve this.

“Come on Hunk! We can catch some Z’s after we’ve had a few drinks at the Balmera!”

Hunk briefly looked up at his roomie before flopping his head back down in annoyance.”It’s too late to go out Lance, go back to bed,” he growled into his pillow.

“But you promised you wouldn’t leave me all alone this time!” Lance huffed, yanking the blankets away from the grumpy hunk.

“HEY, give that back! It’s cold in here!”

“Not until you agree to come drinking with me.”

Hunk sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, a mere second away from strangling his friend. “Lance, you know I love hanging out with you but I really don’t feel like dealing with Mrs. Iverson when she finds out we were out past curfew. Again.” Lance opened his mouth to argue but Hunk cut him off. “Plus, word on the street says that something big is going down tonight at one of the warehouses near fifth street and I really don’t want to be around when that happens.” It was a valid point. Gang activity had slowly decreased over the past couple of days, which usually meant that an ambush or shoot out was imminent. While Hunk would normally have fewer qualms about their late night adventures, in his mind, the risk was just too high. No amount of begging would convince him otherwise.

But then came the Face.

When Hunk had finished his little speech, Lance sat down next to him, drew in a deep breath and sighed with a feeling equivalent of that of a recently dumped teenage girl. He then slowly turned to reveal big blue eyes, wide open and begging for sympathy, coupled with a lip pout rivaled only by Betty Boop herself. Hunk knew this trick well, having witnessed it and its variations in action several times. After the pouty face came the repetition of the initial request, mixed in with some Spanish phrases because, according to Lance anyway, they added a sense of "longing and mystery".

“ _Por favor mi amigo_ , please come and enjoy the nightlife with me. _Sin ti, no soy nada!_ ”

If the person continued to decline or was still mulling it over, as Hunk was in that moment, the Cuban boy would then feign defeat, delving into a hole of self pity to garner sympathy.

“I guess I’ll leave by myself then,” Lance said, getting up and sadly walking away from his friend towards his closet to change. “It’s fine, I mean I don’t blame you for not wanting to spend time with me. I am a handful sometimes and I’d hate to make you feel as if you were a babysitter. Ugh, what kind of frie-”

“Alright fine! I’ll go with you!”

Immediately, Lance whirled out of the closet, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I promise that you will not-”

“Before you say or do anything, I’ve got some rules okay?” The Cuban nodded excitedly as Hunk got out of bed. “First, only one bar tonight, okay? Second, no going or taking anyone home tonight. We’ve got work tomorrow and I don’t want to have sleep in the lounge or cover for you because you were late again. Lastly, if i think at any point that you’ve had too much to drink, we are going home immediately. Capisce?”

“Capisce. Now, let's get you all dolled up!”

* * *

 

“Are we there yet?”

“If you ask me that one more time Gunderson, I’ll turn you in to the Galra.”

“You're not funny Rover.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

A heavy silence filled the air as Katie’s breath hitched in response to the threat from the boy leading her. While the threat of getting caught had always been looming, it had never occurred to Katie that she might be betrayed by the people helping her.

“Ya know I’m just fuckin with ya, right?” Katie looked to see that her guide had turned to face her and was smiling genuinely. She let go of the breath she’d been holding and gave a small, unenthusiastic thumbs up. The boy rolled his eyes before continuing down the street. “You really need to learn to chill out Pidge.”

“I am about to break into a warehouse that belongs to the biggest gang in the city. I’m sorry if i seem a little jittery.” Rover did not respond

As they continued walking to their destination, Katie recalled how she came upon this particular opportunity. She’d been searching for weeks for the location of the Galra warehouse that supposedly held all of the blueprints and general paperwork of the gang, but with such a huge territory and a surplus of buildings belonging to them, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. That was, until one of their former messenger boys who went by the name of Rover started bragging to his friends that he knew the location and purpose of every warehouse belonging to the gang. Prepped with an excuse and some cash, Katie, or “Pidge Gunderson” as she chose to go by,  was quickly able to set up a time and date to have Rover guide her to the place where she would hopefully get some real and serious answers.

“Hey Pidge?”

She snapped back into reality at the sound of her guide’s voice. “Yea?”

“We’re here.” She looked up to see a gigantic building towering before her. It was several stories tall and was about as wide as a cruise ship. The walls had what looked like a deep purple hue and plastered on the front of the building was a carefully painted red Galra insignia.

Katie gulped. “I thought you said this was a warehouse.”

“It IS a warehouse. The second through fourth floors are offices and the rest are rooms used for renting purposes.”

“You mean this place doubles as a boarding house for gang members? You couldn’t have told me that before you brought me here to go snooping through their stuff?!?!”

Rover waved off her comment and proceeded to unlock the warehouse door. “Calm down kid, no one’s here right now. They cleared the place out a couple a weeks ago, so it’s just for storage right now. Now you goin in or not?” He asked, stepping aside to let his companion through first. Katie grimaced, but complied.

The warehouse portion of the building was massive. Beneath the dim, hanging lights were row after row of ceiling high black shelves tightly packed with boxes and crates in a variety of sizes. Near the back where the loading dock was located were several pristine looking forklifts, all perfectly lined up and ready to go. Finally, in a little secluded corner by the shelves was a glass walled office and a set of stairs that ascended to the upper floors.

Looking at the the sheer amounts of boxes she’d have to go through, katie began to seriously reconsider her plan. “Rover, please tell me that you have anything that could possibly help me get through...this!” She gestured to the shelves.

“Way ahead of you.” He dug through his jacket pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “According to this, the shelves represent a year. The recent ones are over there,” he pointed to the back of the warehouse where the shelves were disheveled and not quite as packed as the ones near the entrance. “Then it’s in alphabetical order from there, I think.”

“That’s still way more information than I could possibly get through in a night!”

Rover shrugged. “Then you’d better get started. Good luck Gunderson.” He gave a quick little salute and with that, he was out the door and back into the night.

Katie sighed and straightened up. It was now or never. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

* * *

 

“Oh no, don’t worry, we were just leaving. Isn’t that right Lance?”

The boy in question stumbled as his surly friend grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the club. “But the party's just gettin started!” He whined.

“Come on buddy, it's time to get you home.” Hunk adjusted his grip on his friend’s arm and put it around his shoulders to help him balance himself. Fortunately, Lance was too inebriated to fight, instead choosing to sing songs in Spanish and flirt with his friend.

The night out had started simple enough. After barely managing to sneak out of the boarding house, the boys had headed to their favorite speakeasy for a little Jazz and booze. Lance had immediately caught the attention of some of the other patrons, both male and female, while Hunk had stayed at the bar, chatting with the pretty bartender named Shay he was starting to get sweet on. Soothing live music filled the the air, creating a warm inviting atmosphere. Had it not been for the events that followed, Hunk could’ve stayed all night.

The problems started when a couple both separately splashed their drinks in Lance’s face. Apparently, the guy had walked in on his girl frenching Lance, but before he could do anything, Lance recognized him as the guy he had taken home the week before. Needless to say, no one was happy and both males ended up with a slapped cheek and liquor staining their shirts. Following that failure, the amount of alcohol that had entered the Cuban’s system had started taking effect, resulting in a horrible display of dance moves in front of everyone. Once Hunk had finally dragged his clearly drunk friend back to a table, he had planned to say a quick goodbye to Shay and then leave, but the second he turned his back, Lance had somehow managed to not only get onstage but convince the sax player to let him play the instrument. On his part, Lance was actually pretty decent at the saxophone and had performed a beautiful solo that other club goers clearly enjoyed, but one look at the club owner’s face and Hunk knew they had overstayed their welcome. Five minutes later, and here they were, Lance staggering down the sidewalk, Hunk as support.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are Hunk?”

“Not since the last time you got drunk.”

“No, but seriously, you are so beautiful,” he slurred. “Inside and out Hunk, you are so BEA-U-TI-FUL! I LOVE Y-hmmph!”

Hunk clamped a hand over his friend’s mouth. “Lance you’re gonna get us into trouble! Do you wanna be the one who has to explain to the cops why we reek of booze?”

Lance however was not listening. Wrestling out of his grip, Lance ran out onto the street, yelling, “ _Mi amor! Mi corazón duele por ti!”_

“Please Lance, I am begging you, quiet down! You’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood!” Hunk half whispered as he tried to quietly grab ahold of his friend, but just before he could lead Lance away, the teen whirled around and ran to a stranger who had been hanging in a nearby alley.

“Hey there handsome, did you know that there is the most beautiful man in the world,” he slurred, pointing to Hunk, who was now in full panic mode.

“I am so sorry sir,” he said, grabbing Lance and beginning to walk with him. “My friend, he uh, he doesn’t get out often. Between you and me, he’s a little…” he knocks on his temple, “up there, ya know?”

The stranger didn’t seem convinced. “Yea, if by that you mean completely bent.”

“I- ugh- what do- Well i never-”

“Oh can it fluffy, you could smell the booze off of you two from a mile away. So how about this,” the man straightened up and crossed his arms. “You tell me where to find the juice joint and I won’t turn you into the coppers.”

Before he could reply, Lance once again slipped from his grasp and squared up to the stranger. “Getting real sick of this Mcclain,” Hunk mumbled.

“Oh please, no way a boozehound like you is gonna go anywhere near the police.”

“Okay how about this. You tell me,” the man uncrossed his arms and reached into his coat, pulling out a revolver and and aiming it towards Lance, “or I fill both of you with daylight.”

Hunk froze, unable to do anything but stare at the gun pointing at his friend’s chest. ‘Oh God, please don’t let him shoot, PLEASE don’t let him shoot,’ was all he could think.

Lance on the other hand, just smiled. His eyes twinkled with his signature mischievous look and in one swift movement, he had disarmed the man and bopped him in the head with the butt of the pistol. “Hey Hunk?”

“Yes Lance?”

“I think now would be the time we run for our lives.”

“Agreed.” And with that, they booked it down the street.

An, “I’M GONNA GET YOU, YOU PUNKS,”echoed behind them as they ran, but the pair never wavered. They ran and ran, taking random turns in an attempt to throw off their pursuer, never really paying attention to where they were headed. Eventually, the two slowed to a halt in front of an abnormally large purple warehouse.

“You think we lost him?” Hunk gasped out after a few minutes.

“I think so.”

“WHERE DID YOU TWO GO?!?!”

Hunk sighed. “Or not”

Lance looked around for a moment before spotting the warehouse door, which was slightly ajar. “I have an idea.” He quickly grabbed Hunk by the arm and dragged him inside the building, shutting the door behind them.

The warehouse was huge, but tightly packed with loads of shelves. Combined with the dark red walls and the ominous hanging lights that just barely lit up the walkways, the whole thing looked like a death maze.

“Lance, I don’t think we should be in here. this place gives me the heebie jeebies,” Hunk whispered as they wandered around.

“Well it’s either this place or out there with Mr. I’d-Kill-For-A-Beer and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not get strangled by some rummy.” Lance started looking through the shelves and pulling boxes. “Besides, where’s your sense of adventure? Who knows what we’ll find in here.”

“But we don’t know who this stuff belongs to! What if they’re here right now? You ever consider the fact that we may not be-” a loud clattering sound echoed through the warehouse. “-alone.”

Both boys whipped their heads around toward the direction of the noise, then back at each other with terrified expressions.

“Please tell me that was you.”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Hunk gulped. “Well if it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t you…” he trailed off as he and Lance looked back , “Then who was it?”

They stood there for a moment, waiting for something, anything to happen. When they failed to hear anything else, Lance motioned for them to go check it out, putting a finger to his lips for silence. Hunk, ever the logical teen, frantically shook his head in opposition. Unfortunately for the burly Samoan, Lance wasn’t gonna let this slide. Rolling his eyes, the latino grabbed Hunk’s hand and pulled him along as he crept to the back of the warehouse, keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. However, it wasn’t long before they rammed into a small being who had been trying to quickly escape the warehouse.

“Watch where you’re going or you’re gonna get all of us caught, you futzin goofs!”

Hunk looked up from where he had fallen to get a better look at who was talking. The person in question was a short thing, maybe a little taller than five foot.They wore a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up halfway up their arms to reveal slim pale arms, and a pair of gray slacks, about a size too big, tucked into their white knee length socks. Underneath a gray bandit cap was a mop of short, caramel colored, wavy hair that looked like it’d been cut by a blind barber. Behind a pair huge circle lens glasses that had been knocked askew were oddly familiar hazel eyes and a splattering of freckles across their nose and cheeks.

“Pidge? Is that you?”

The person gave them a confused look before they finally recognized him. “HUNK? LANCE? What are you two doing here?” He sniffed the air and scrunched his nose. “And why do you smell like a speakeasy?”

Lance, having also recognized their workmate, crossed his arms and glared at him. “We could you ask the same thing.” He paused for a moment to think. “About the you being here thing. Not  the smell thing.”

Pidge gave Hunk a pointed look, gesturing towards their cuban friend. “Is he…?”

“Half seas over? Yep, though he’s sobered up a little since we left the club.”

“Right then,” he said, adjusting his glasses and reaching for a small brown pack, which had fallen when they’d collided. “I guess I’ll be on my way. See you guys tomorrow.” Hunk eyed his short friend’s pack curiously as he started to walk away. It was completely full, to the point of overflowing, with what looked like paperwork and blueprints.

“Hey Pidge, what _are_ you doing here?”

Pidge froze and slowly turned around to face Hunk. “Oh ya know, just um...hanging around.” He smiled and laughed nervously.

“Right, of course. Then, what are all those papers for?”

“Some...light reading.”

It was Lance’s turn to give the pointed look. “In a random warehouse with shitty lighting in the middle of the night?”

Pidge didn’t respond.

Hunk sighed and knelt down to get eye level with his caramel haired friend. “Look Pidge, you don’t have to lie to us. If there’s something going on and you need help, we are more than happy to help you out. That’s what friends are for.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled softly.

Pidge bit his help in thought for a moment, before looking back up at hunk and returning the smile. “Okay.” He took breath and sighed. “The real reason i’m in this warehouse is because…”

At it was at that moment, that the lights suddenly brightened.

“What the hell’s goin on?” Lance asked, squinting due to the sudden increase in lighting.

His answer was in the form of a gunshot echoing through the warehouse.

**Author's Note:**

> What began as an idea to draw Flapper Pidge quickly spiraled into the plot for a mobster AU you didn't know you needed and thus, here we are. I do hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do brainstorming and writing for it. Hold on to your suspenders and newsboys caps, this is gonna be a long, action filled ride!
> 
> Special Thanks to my friend Mac for proofreading and frenchonionsoop over on IG for being a doll and letting me go on and on about this AU. Y'all should definitely go check out their artwork, it's the Bee's Knees!


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